The One Who Died
by Calascent
Summary: The world has been saved from a crazy, power-hungry alchemist and now Herobrine can kick back, relax, and spend eternity with the woman he loves. But when an otherworldy rain begins to fall over Minecraftia and the bringer of the rain is a witch connected to the god's shrouded past, Herobrine must travel to distant lands to save his love. Sequal to The One Who Lived.
1. Chapter 1

It was a rainy day throughout Minecraftia. For the past week it had done nothing but rain. Everywhere in Minecraftia sheets of fat heavy rain splatted against windows, pathways and roofs. The lower valleys were beginning to flood and lakes and rivers were swelled to dangerous levels.

The council was meeting that day to discuss the unusual weather. They had decided to meet at a castle, if only because it was dry and in a central location. However the decision was not an easy one. For the castle belonged to a previously unsavory character.

Lydia Blake was helping her fiancée get ready for the meeting. It was a difficult task. The man kept wiggling and fidgeting, nervous about hosting the meeting. He almost swatted away her hands when she tried fastening his tie tab.

She frowned. "Calm down. You'll do a fine job of hosting."

"That's not what I'm worried about." He said eloquently, looking at himself in the large wall mirror. His shirt was crisp pure white silk, delicately embroidered with gold and silver designs at the duffs. He was wearing grey pants and a matching tie, upon Lydia's request. He would have preferred black. "I'm worried about what might become of this meeting. What if this rain is more than normal water…?" He trailed off. Lydia stood in front of him and straightened his collar a bit.

"And if it isn't, you'll stop whoever or whatever caused it. Because you are a hero." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the nose.

He leaned down and kissed her softly. He would never admit it, but he was also worried about her. As a blessed child of Notch, she would always be in danger, a pawn some evil force could use to destroy the world, his creation. It didn't help that in his euphoria of bringing her back to life, he had insisted on making her immortal like him. And because of that, she'd be in danger forever. And it was his fault.

His fiancée pulled away, smirking. She fussed with his tie before nodding approvingly. "There. Perfect." He ran a hand through his hair and looked at himself critically.

"Perhaps I should fake illness and not make an appearance…" Lydia, who had crossed behind the man to pick up a comb, smacked him on the back of the head.

"That would be the move of a coward. You are many things Herobrine, but you are not a coward." She said sternly. He exhaled silently.

"You have no idea…" He murmured under his breath, too low for her to hear. "No idea…."

Herobrine had been sure to send a nether portal to each of the council member's homes. He had also made sure there were safe pathways leading from those portals to the portal he had erected in the entrance hall of his palace. A gesture of convenience he hoped would put the council members in a good mood. Of course, you never knew with people who had once been your enemy.

The banquet hall had been aired out for the occasion, Lydia having personally seen to the work. However she insisted in bringing in flowered from the now drowned garden. Herobrine paced the length of the hall, his eyes never leaving the rainbow of carnations in the corner he was glaring at. For the briefest of moments he wondered how Lydia and the gardener were able to grow such vibrantly colored carnations.

He shook his head and looked into an appearing mirror, fussing with his tie. Joining the council had been a bad idea, probably because it hadn't been Lydia's. He had come up with the notion after the incident, when he was drunk out of his mind. Well, he wasn't out of his mind. Being a god he always kept a constant level of higher thinking. But he had felt and acted drunk.

He flicked a few locks of his silvery blond hair. It had grown longer, brushing against the bottom of his collar. He reached behind his head and gathered it together in a small ponytail, turning his head to the side.

Someone cleared their throat at the door. The god spun around, waving the mirror away. One of the ghost servants Notch had given him stood at the door.

"My lord, your guests have arrived. Shall I lead them in?"

"Yes." Herobrine said, fixing his tie one last time. "And ask the cook to prepare a few cups of coffee."

"Coffee sir? Not tea?"

"I think coffee would be appropriate for the council members…" The butler nodded, turning to walk away. "Oh, and ask the cook to have a bit of ale ready, just in case." The butler turned back and bowed.

"Of course sir."

The butler left and he council members slowly shuffled into the hall. Herobrine spied Honeydew and Xephos mumbling and looking around the hall, the former in awe, the latter in skepticism. The gruff King Iwan of the Dwarves shoved past the two heroes, grumbling. Herobrine recalled when he had held his trusty obsidian blade at the king's throat. The thought almost made him yearn for the old days.

A hand clamped down on the god's shoulder. He turned to see Professor Oslo and Orion standing next to him, smiling. The professor's salt and pepper hair was lighter than Herobrine remembered.

"Herobrine! My favorite god! How have you been? It's been a while. How's Lydia? Adjusting well?"

"Sir, I'm the only god you know…" Herobrine muttered off hand. "I am doing quite well, as is Lydia. She seems at home. The cook and gardener have grown accustomed to working with her next to them." The professor chuckled.

"Doesn't surprise me. She could never settle on a life of being waited on." He continued chuckling as if he was amused at some joke only he was privy to and sauntered off to greet the other council members. Orion shook Herobrine's hand politely.

Over the past year, Orion had come out of his shell, no doubt thanks to Lydia and Lucy's constant poking and prodding. He had moved out of the ancient tower in the woods to a much grander one in New Mistral. He had opened a potion shop, now the best in the city as he could get the rarest ingredients in the Nether from Herobrine. He was a celebrity practically, not only for having helped save the world, but also for being one of the most eligible bachelors in New Mistral.

However, he looked tired, with dark bags under his eyes that quite complimented his sweater. The grip on Herobrine's hand was wear, more so than usual.

"Tired?" Herobrine asked lightly.

"I bit." Orion said, releasing his hand. "It's been a while since I've had a decent night's sleep."

"Too busy entertaining all those ladies to sleep Alchemist?" A snarky voice with a heavy north accent said from behind them. They turned, having to look down to see the face of the short blond Skylord before them. "Of course, it wouldn't surprise me after what that daft reporter wrote in the paper."

"Don't get me started on that article!" Herobrine blinked.

"What was written in this article?"

"It wouldn't surprise me if everything she wrote was true." Lucy sniffed pretentiously.

"Nothing is true! The only thing in that article that wasn't fiction was my name! And she spelled it wrong!" Orion groaned. Lucy snickered.

"What are you talking about? What article?!" Herobrine asked desperately.

"And then she made up some ridiculous sob story about my family, when I didn't even mention they were dead! Notch, it was ridiculous…."Orion took a deep breath, controlling his temper. "Better than them knowing the truth I suppose…" Herobrine cleared his throat.

"As much as I'd love to hear all about this article, I think Lydia would like to hear it more."

"Oh yeah, where is that daft girl?" Lucy said, shifting her attention to the god. "She never writes me anything interesting anymore! It's all Herobrine has been doin' this or Herobrine's been doin' that. I'd hate to be rude, but I don't care what you're doin'. I want to know how she's been."

"Still rude like always…" Orion murmured endearingly.

"Well don't be complaining to me. She's upstairs in the library waiting for you two." Herobrine said, frowning. Lucy was about to say something, but Orion grabbed her by her jacket collar like a kitten.

"Come on Airhead. You're not allowed to talk with the grownups."

"Shut up! I'll be here one day! You just wait!" She shrieked as Orion dragged her out of the room, chuckling. Herobrine sighed. At least they weren't at each other's throats.

The god casually adjusted his tie again and sat down at the head of the table. He ran his hand over a black feather quill nest to him, causing it to jump up, quivering, ready to record the meeting to the letter.

The other council members slowly took their seats around the table and the maid came around placing steaming cups of coffee in front of each of them. Herobrine looked at their faces and took a deep breath. No time like the present.

"Gentlemen, and Ms. Peculiar, I welcome you to my home." He cringed inwardly. It was scary how much he had just sounded like his brother. "I hope you will find your short stay enjoyable."

"Enough pleasantries Herobrine." King Iwan growled. Apparently he hadn't gotten over the sword at his throat. "Let's get this done quickly so we can leave this god forsaken place."

"Pardon me your majesty," The professor interjected thoughtfully. "But I don't think that's an appropriate phrase, considering the circumstances."

Herobrine however bit his tongue to hold his temper and nodded curtly, reclining in his chair. "You are absolutely right Sire. I am in no authority to lead this. I shall bequeath the floor to you Lysander." The skylord nodded a thanks to the god and rose, shuffling through a few notes.

"Gentlemen, and Ms. Peculiar, we are here today not to discuss our normal business of taxes and construction, but of this god forsaken rain plaguing our land." Herobrine cleared his throat.

"I'd hate to interrupt, but could we perhaps stop using that term?" The two heroes and Isabel snickered.

"Pardon me." Lysander said, crossly glaring at the three. "Anyway, as I was saying, I went over the almanacs from the past hundred years and found no record of this much rainfall continuously previously."

"I think you are all overreacting." Xephos chimed in, adding a few lumps of sugar to his coffee. "We can easily classify this as just nature paying back for the drought we had a few years ago."

"Logically, you would think just as much, but that drought was almost ten years ago." The professor said, taking his glasses off and cleaning them carefully. "A little late for Mother Nature to finally repay for it. No, according to my calculations, that drought was made up for years ago." He replaced the wire-framed spectacles on his nose.

It went on like that for a while. Someone would suggest something ass the professor or Lysander would shoot it down with logic. Herobrine looked into his coffee, having lost interest long before. The cup, which would have gone cold long before, steamed as he traced his first finger around the rim of the fine porcelain cup. The quill beside his hand was frantically writing, going through page after page of the log book as the discussion droned on.

The conversation was slowly turning into a heated argument between Xephos, Lysander, King Iwan and the professor. Herobrine had resolved himself to watch Honeydew make faces as he doodled on Xephos papers. Had that is. As soon as the first threat was thrown, the god took it upon himself to stop things.

"Enough of that you bloody barbarians! Honestly! I had thought the council could have a civil conversation but apparently I was mistaken. I should have realized who the members of the council were."

King Iwan bristled and glared at the god. "What an impertinent thing to say! You should learn to speak in place."

Herobrine narrowed his cold eyes and met the king's glare, his mouth a thin line. His gaze quickly shattered the king's and his words were laced with ice. "And you should learn when your stubborn arrogance gets the better of you. You forget that I am a god. I helped create this world, I can just as easily destroy it and you." His voice had taken a hollow, monotone quality. The council members were looking at him with looks akin to horror. Honeydew had his hand poised over the paper, ink dripping off his pen.

The god blinked, looking down. He adjusted his tie and cleared his throat, slowly sitting when he realized he'd gotten up. "Excuse me." He said as quietly and casually as possible, taking a sip from his coffee. "Please continue."

Lysander swallowed a large gulp of his cold drink. "Ahem, well, uh since it seems we are at a standstill, do you have any suggestions Herobrine?"

Herobrine shook his head, standing back up and nodding politely. "Perhaps when I come back I'll have some sort of idea." Without waiting for words of consent of protest, the god dashed out of the room.

He breathed deeply, his head swimming as he ran outside into the drowned garden and sat down on one of the marble and iron benches. He looked at the water logged plants as a river flowed over his black leather shoes. A rainbow of carnation petals, now dingy and soggy and gray, floated along the current, twisting and dipping in an elaborate dance of death. Water ran into his eyes, clouding his vision. Not that he needed to see.

He was thinking hard, trying to figure out what had caused him to snap. It had been years since he'd talked so coldly and violently. He'd learned to how to control himself, how to act refined and eloquent in the presence of humans, how to socialize and coexist with his brother's creations. He had taught himself how to not hate his mother and brother and everything they'd ever done. He thought he'd done a good job at it too. Apparently not.

He sighed in resignation and peeled his hair off his face, slicking it back tight against his scalp. There really was nothing to do. He would end the council meeting as fast as possible and send them on their way. And in the morning he would send each of them a letter of resignation, stating how he was unfit to be a part of the council.

Herobrine slowly walked back into the castle, his butler standing inside waiting with a towel and a steaming mug on a tray.

"Sir, I realize you are a god and not susceptible to aging and most diseases, but you can still catch cold. And given the current circumstances, a cold would not be in your best interest. Also, please remove your shoes so I can have them dried immediately. They are expensive so I don't want them to get ruined." Herobrine sighed, wedging his finger into the sole of his shoes and peeling them off.

"I would not mind having a cold…I wouldn't have to deal with this council business." He took the mug, draining it and rubbed his head with the warm fluffy towel.

"You may want to rethink that when you see what the council discovered in your absence." The butler led Herobrine from the back parlor to the front hall, where the council was convened.

They were standing around the Nether portal, staring at it as if it was alien. Herobrine carefully pushed his way through the crowd. He blinked, water running over his toes. He looked down at the miniature creak running over the marble tiles.

"What the…" He mumbled, his eyes running up the current to the source of the water. The portal was leaking. He blinked again, this time in disbelief. "Is…the portal…leaking water?"

"It would appear so…" Xephos quipped. Without thinking, Herobrine jumped through the portal.

The god expected his feet to burn on the searing rock, but they didn't. He looked around desperately for fire and lave but saw nothing but rivers of rushing water, glowstone dust and mushrooms swirling in the current. The path he had erected had been washed away. He ran over to a cliff where below he knew there was a massive sea of lava, and fell to the soaked rock, looking over the edge. There was an ocean of not lava, but water below, a layer of obsidian just under the calm surface.

Rising slowly, with an expression of horror gracing his face, Herobrine walked through the Nether portal, back to the overworld. He quickly sent the portal away and fell to the groan. He pulled his knees up to his chest and covered his face with his hands. Professor Oslo gently patted Herobrine on the shoulder.

"I think we can safely assume this water is not natural." Lysander said grimly. Herobrine let out a strangled cry. "We can also conclude that no one is going home tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

The forest was dark and damp, the ground soggy and spongy underfoot. A lonely sheep bleated, its high voice ringing through the limp limbs of the soaked trees. A few birds leapt from their perches, searching desperately for relief from the rain. It was a dreary day and the man was reveling in it.

He stood in a patch of dry forest in the middle of a clearing. Flowers and mushrooms guarded the perimeter of the clearing. The man looked at a red mushroom and tilted his head, as if listening.

"Minime!" He said sternly, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. "Sed mox."

Herobrine hurried to his study, murmuring to himself.

"I can't believe I didn't realize it. The answer has been staring me in the face! Ugh! I'm so stupid!" He stopped, backing up a few paces until he stood in front of the library door. He cleared his throat and knocked curtly, gently opening the door. "Darling?" He said sweetly. "May I borrow Orion for a moment?"

Lydia looked at him from her place next to Lucy on the plush velvet conversation couch. She smiled, nodding. "Of course." The alchemist stood from the chair across from the couch and crossed the room in long strides. Herobrine nodded thanks and quickly shut the door to the library. When he turned to Orion however, his expression had darkened.

"Can you speak Twilish?" Orion blinked.

"Uh, not fluently, but I can translate it fairly easily. Why?"

"I need your help." Herobrine said, leading Orion down the hall. The alchemist grinned, relishing the fact that the all-powerful god needed help.

Herobrine's study was done over in gray wallpaper with lighter pin strips that soared to the higher ceiling. The floor was a pale yellow birch wood that was warm to the touch, unlike the marble in the hallway. A wide bookshelf of the same color wood took up the entire wall behind the dark wood desk. In the corner of the room a delicate spiral staircase wound up to a loft with what looked like an observatory.

The anxious god went straight to the bookshelf where he jumped on a stool and pulled a half a dozen thin volumes from the top shelf. He tossed three of them to Orion.

"Start translating. Any mention of rain or a witch named Fi, tell me." The god began flipping through one of the books, still standing on the stool.

"What are these?" Orion asked, setting them on the desk.

"My old diaries. I completely forgot about them…I'm almost positive they'll help."

"That's reassuring…" The alchemist murmured. He walked over to the stairs and sat on one, beginning the long process of translating.

Orion yawned and rubbed his tired eyes. They'd been reading and translating for hours and the alchemist had lost faith in finding anything. He had quickly learned that the entire bookshelf was filled with diaries, the older ones at the top and the newer ones near the bottom. Books were strewn across the room, the top three shelves empty.

"Question." Orion said his voice slightly hoarse. "Why are these all written in twilish?"

"At first it was just paranoia, and then it just stuck." The god replied offhanded. "So few speak it…"

"Well that's because twilish is from-"

"Aha!" Herobrine interrupted. "Found it!" He jumped off his perch and to Orion, practically shoving the book in his face. "See?! Right there!" He pointed to a few words. Orion blinked.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"Something bad…" The god murmured, shutting the book. "We have to tell the council." He jumped up and threw open the door, racing down the corridor towards the dining hall. Orion sent a last glance at the piles of books and chased after the god.

The young alchemist lost the much faster god sometime after the third backtrack from a dead end. He learned over, his hands on his knees, huffing and puffing.

"This isn't a castle…" He gasped. "This is a labyrinth…"

Herobrine popped his head 'round the corner in front of Orion.

"Well come on! We have important information to deliver!"

"F-fine! But slow down!" Orion said, regaining his breath.

"You speed up!" Herobrine said speeding off again like his terror had turned to giddiness. The alchemist noted this with interest.

The two burst through the doors of the dining hall where the guests had gathered for dinner. Orion gasped for breath and fell to the floor, exhausted. Herobrine looked around and straightened, tightening his tie.

"Pardon me ladies and gentlemen." He said eloquently. "I was not aware you had sat down for dinner." He shot a glare at his butler standing at the side bar.

"Perhaps you and Orion would like to join us." Professor Oslo suggested. Herobrine nodded as his butler helped the alchemist to his feet. Herobrine calmly sat down in the empty chair next to Lydia who smiled sweetly. A bowl of steaming brown stew was set in front of him. He looked at it disapprovingly.

"Mushroom stew… My favorite…"

"Herobrine," Lysander started. "While I enjoy the pleasantries of sitting down for a proper meal, the rain is our main concern. And judging by the way you came in, you have surely fond something interesting."

"Yes…" The god pushed the bowl away and laid his diary in its place. "When you are as old as I am, you see a lot of things, wars, droughts, plagues, lots of things. But it's really all about the little details. This is one of the volumes of my diary and in it, I believe I've found the answer."

"Something minor I hope." Xephos commented.

"I'm afraid not." The god said darkly. "A very, very long time ago, I met a nomad traveling around, preforming small magic tricks for village children. At first I thought none of it, but then I met the traveler again, in a different town. Soon I noticed a pattern. The traveler was everywhere I went, like she was following me. I finally confronted the traveler, demanding to know who they were. She told me her name was Fi and that she was a witch from a world neither I nor my brother created.

"She claimed to be able to see through my human disguise and knew exactly who I was. She also claimed she could do things I couldn't with the powers of her world." Everyone around the table was silent, rapt with his tale.

"Could she?" Lydia finally asked quietly. "Could she do something you couldn't?" Herobrine hesitated.

"She could…create life. She took me out into the woods, into a clearing and showed me. With a wave of her hand, she created rings of flowers and mushrooms. When she snapped a cloud formed and rain began to fall in the clearing. She challenged me to do the same…" His voice trailed off. The others looked at his expectantly. "Anyway, the point is it's her. She's the only one I know who can create rain other than my brother. And I think this is her way of sending a message. If we want this to end, we have to find her."

"It's all well and good that you've figured it out, but how are we to find this witch? And on that note, why should we help? This is your problem now." King Iwan voiced, annoyed but no longer enraged.

"It is my burden and mine alone. And I would like to find her on my own." Herobrine said, folding his diary. "None of you are obligated to help me. You are however advised to stay here in the safety of my castle until I can convince the witch to stop the rain."

"And how are you going to find her?" Xephos quipped.

"I look for the darkest clouds."

Late that night, after the butler had shown the council members to the guest rooms, a figure sat perched on the balcony ledge outside the main bedroom. The balcony was enveloped in an area of clear sky, the rain falling in a perfect circle around it. A stray cloud drifted across the sky, revealing a pale, wavering full moon that bathed the figure in a shaft of silvery, other-worldly light.

His hair was fine and straight, barely brushing his shoulders in choppy layers. It was a pale yellow green color that gradually darkened near the roots. The tips of his hair were an orangey red, like the way a leaves turns colors in fall. He pulled a small leather pouch from the belt under his finally woven orange tunic. Gracefully he jumped off the ledge and crept into the silent bedroom, his footfalls muffled by his leather slippers as he approached the bed.

He looked down at the woman in disdain, her curtain of scarlet hair draped across the white sheets. He lightly ran a lock of her soft hair through his fingers, his other hand clenching into a fist and his face flushed in anger. He then crossed to the other side of the bed and looked at the god lovingly. The figure longed to stroke the sleeping god's smooth, pale cheek.

With a delicate hand, the figure scattered the contents of the pouch, a shimmering white powder, over the couple. Their pulse immediately slowed and their breathing deepened. They were unconscious.

The man kissed the god on the forehead and set an envelope stained yellow with age on the table next to him. He them picked up the woman and roughly tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her with ease despite his slight frame. He made his way to the ledge of the balcony and disappeared into the night with his quarry.

Herobrine was furious. He was positive it was Fi. Who else would've been able to knock him out so thoroughly and kidnap his fiancée literally right out of his arms and leave a note written in twilish!? No one else he knew. Or at least was an enemy with.

He looked at the note again. The stained parchment was mostly blank except for a single phrase in twilish. The clearing.

There was no way it couldn't be Fi. Herobrine was sure she still held a grudge against him for… He shook his head, shoving the note into the pocket of the pants he had thrown on when he'd finally woken up. He fingered the fabric of the pants and stood on the balcony, looking over the landscape.

The castle and its surrounding grounds had been liberated from the rain and was now a refuge for the animals that lived in the nearby forest. A songbird landed on the ledge next to Herobrine's hand and whistled a sweet tune. He glared at it, but the bird continued tweeting away. He sighed and looked down at the soaked and soggy ground. Bellow him was the garden that yesterday had been drowned and dead, but today the multicolored flowers, fruit trees and shrubs had regrown, flourishing better than before.

Herobrine glared at the garden, Lydia's garden, which Fi had violated with her otherworldly magic. Anger resparked within him and he slammed his fist against the rail, cracking the marble.

With a quick turn of his heal, the god marched across the room to the wardrobe and pulled on a plain cotton shirt. From the bottom of the wardrobe he grabbed a scuffed and worn pair of brown leather books and a matching belt that he fastened around his trim waist.

Then, with a deft and practiced finger, Herobrine flicked a lever hidden in the corner of the wardrobe. A long tall panel in the back of the wardrobe slid away on pistons kept well-oiled by the butler, revealing Herobrine's trusted obsidian blade. A thin layer of dust coated the inside of the cubby hole, but the blade was newly cleaned and, upon farther inspection, sharpened. The god smiled and pulled out the blade, sheathing it and clipping it to his belt.

With measured, determined strides, Herobrine quietly stalked through the halls, cautious not to wake anyone.

It was early in the morning, around dawn. But Orion was used to waking early to brew the day's potions. His mother, who had been a potion mistress before him, how taught Orion that the freshest potions were the most potent. She had showed him how she made a super concentrated "master" potion that could be watered down to ten normal strength potions. Not only did this save money in ingredients, but also brewing time.

So Orion had gotten out of bed out of habit and decided to take a stroll through the castle. He casually threw his dark blue robe over his frame and left his room, his silvery hair hanging loose around his shoulders.

He decided to head for the kitchen in hopes of snagging an early breakfast. He entered the servant's quarters and walked down the hall to the kitchen. He spotted one of the little maids scurrying about with clean sheets piled in her arms. Her ruffled black and white dress bobbed as she bounced about anxiously. Orion smiled and said a quick good morning as he walked past. The little maid nodded respectfully and continued bouncing about.

In the kitchen, more little maids bounced around, under the direction of the cook, a plump and curvy ghost woman with rosy cheeks and ringlets of black hair piled on her head. Her attention was captivated however by the young woman leaning on the wooden work table with her bum sticking up in the air. Orion's face colored.

"Lucy, where are your pants?!" He sputtered, trying not to stare. The skylord turned and looked at the alchemist scrutinizing. Then her face flushed.

"I could ask the same thing to you Mr. I am going to parade around in nothing but pants and a robe!" Orion looked down at his boxers and bare chest and quickly pulled his robe shut.

"Why are you even awake this early?!" The alchemist shouted his face still flushed. Lucy crossed her arms defiantly.

"I was hungry." She said matter of fact.

The cook pulled out a tray of hot biscuits and set them on the work table, shaking her head disapprovingly at both Orion and Lucy. She then poured them each a cup of coffee and motioned for them to sit down. With another gesture, she sent two little maids to the guest rooms to get the two youth's clothes.

"Honestly." She murmured in a thick accent. "You two…"

The two of them sat down at the table and looked at each other awkwardly; both of their faces still bright red.

"Is that a new robe?"

"No, it's pretty old."

There was a pause.

"Your panties are cute…Did Lydia pick them out?"

"Yeah. She insisted I stopped wearing pants for boys."

There was another pause. Lucy nibbled on a biscuit.

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah…You?"

"Mmm, best I've had in weeks."

"So that article, with the story about all the women…Was it-"

"It wasn't true. I promise."

"Good…I mean uh…"

The little maids came back with clothes and Lucy was saved from her stuttering. A few minutes later, when they were fully dressed and no longer embarrassed, they had a lovely conversation which consisted of glaring and a comfortable silence both were content with but neither wanted the other to know.

Suddenly Herobrine strode into the kitchen, right passed Orion and Lucy. The two teens looked at each other then jumped up from the table, chasing after the god. They managed to intercept him as he picked his way through the vegetable garden.

"Damn potatoes…" He muttered. "Get out of my way. I have important things to do." Orion grabbled Herobrine by the shoulder, turning him around.

"Where are you going this early?" Lucy asked, crushing a budding carrot bushel.

"I'm going to find Fi." He said firmly, his mouth a hard line.

"Without breakfast?" Lucy scoffed. "No way. You're a bottomless pit when it comes to food."

"I can survive without it!" The god shot back. As if on cue, his stomach gurgled loudly. He looked away sheepishly. "I can…" He repeated less forcefully. Lucy grabbed his wrist and began dragging him back to the kitchen.

When they were all sitting around the work table with fresh cups of coffee and buttered biscuits, Herobrine told them what happened. Orion nodded thoughtfully while Lucy glared into her coffee, steam practically pouring out of her ears.

"Why the dirty rotten witch! Oh if I ever get my hands on her…" Her voice trailed off into angry muttering.

"She was always a jealous person…" Herobrine shook his head. "I have to go find her."

"Then go find her. We aren't going to stop you. Just let us get some swords." Orion said brushing away biscuit crumbs.

"You are not coming with me."

"The hell we aren't!" Lucy shouted, surging up. "She's our best friend!"

"It's dangerous."

"Well too bloody bad!" Lucy's accent was heavy as she shouted.

'You really have no choice." Orion added. Herobrine frowned.

"So I don't…."


	3. Chapter 3

Despite the rain having stopped in the nearby woods, raindrops continued to fall through the leaves and hit the three as they trekked. As the droplets fell onto Herobrine's head, a puff of steam would sizzle, his skin searing. Lucy was just as hot with rage, but she wasn't a god and so the water stayed water as it soaked through her hair. Orion was neither enraged nor steaming, simply pondering thoughtfully. However he was slightly annoyed that he hadn't packed his tall boots, only his ankle high button boots, as the forest floor was quite muddy.

The midday sun was beginning to make the windless and wet woods sticky and humid. It was not long before Orion had shed his robe, stuffing it in the small pack he had brought, and tied up his silvery hair in a high ponytail. Lucy however was dealing with this new obstacle of humidity like she did most things, hotheaded and boorish, complaining and generally being annoying and ignored.

After a while, Herobrine had calmed down and was no longer steaming. He trudged on, a mask of indifference plastered in his face. He was back to his old self, numb and bitter and silently seething inside. He hadn't realized how much he relied on Lydia to keep him from himself. She was his rock and the whole reason he hadn't resigned himself to isolated depression.

Lucy had calmed down as well and when night fell, she stepped up and directed the making of camp. She ordered Orion to go out and find a pig for dinner and Herobrine to start a fire. She herself drew her sword and began setting a perimeter.

Orion liked animals very much. He prided himself in the collection of pets he'd acquired over the past year. He'd bartered a lame horse from an old farmer late spring, nursing it back to peak condition with a slave he had made with honey and netherwart. He kept the horse at a ranch outside of New Mistral and visited it every Thursday. A stray dog had been sleeping on his door step on morning, its ribs showing through its mangy grey fur. Orion had carried the dog in and fed it and when he discovered it had a parasite inside of it, he had made a tonic that killed the harmful creature. Injured birds landed on his terrace, tweeting for attention to their injuries. Orion happily obliged, letting the birds recuperate in a cage in his living room.

Yes, Orion loved animals. He loved them so much he was even a vegetarian. And so when Lucy had sent him out to kill a pig for dinner, Orion had paled and tried to stammer out an excuse as to why he couldn't possibly go hunt for dinner and was much more suited from making a fire or making a shelter with branches.

Unfortunately Lucy was having none of it and sent hum out anyway.

The defeated alchemist trudged through the forest, his sword being dragged behind him.

"Stupid skylord…" He muttered. "Cloud moron…Imbecilic of the air…Lucy the lunatic…" He stopped, looking up thoughtfully, his finder tapping his chin. "No…She's not crazy…" He continued trudging. "She's not stupid either. Rather clever to be honest…But a Skylord none the less!" By now he was no longer trudging, but strolling, his sword resting on his shoulder. "A really cute skylord….with soft looking hair…and clear blue eyes…" He shook his head. "You ninny!" He called himself, using the term Lucy used occasionally. "She is a skylord! You are an alchemist! Even if she did look at you that way-" He didn't finish his thought.

Standing on a small mound of mud about four feet tall was a pale pink pig, its legs and belly stained with mud. It was eye level with Orion and looked at him with glassy black eyes. Orion blinked, unable to look away from the captivating mass of pork. The alchemist desperately tried to lift his sword, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The adorable pig oinked softly and tilted its head to the side.

Lucy had her sword at the ready as she stalked through the silent forest. There wasn't a single hint of sound or movement. She'd never set up a perimeter before but she thought, how hard could it be? Very hard it seemed as her mind was wandering as always.

It especially wanted to wander to that morning in the kitchen when Orion had come in seeking breakfast. She remembered how she was leaning on the table chatting with the cook about…things and he came in without his clothes and his hair all over his shoulders…

She shook her head violently, desperately trying to banish the thoughts of his tone chest that was so very pale… Disgustingly pale! An unhealthy pale! Yet so tantalizing. She wondered if it would be cold to the touch like snow, or warm and comforting, heated by his soul.

"No!" She said, shaking her head again. "Alchemists don't have souls. They taught us that in Skylord School…"

In fact, Lucy had been taught a lot of things in Skylord School about alchemists. One of them being that they were the reason skylords existed. A long time ago, the alchemists ruled over Minecraftia with iron fists. They controlled the citizens with dark magic and fear. But then a band of brothers, deciding enough was enough, invented the first aero planes and attacked the high council of alchemists. The brothers became known as Lords of the Sky and began a new era in Minecraftia of peace and justice.

That was what Lucy had been taught, but now everything was being questioned by that silver-haired, pale-chested, egg-headed alchemist.

There was a rattling and a rustling in the bushes to Lucy's left. Raising her sword, the skylord crept up to the bush and carefully displaced the leaves. A small pale pink piglet starred up at her, oinking urgently. Its head jerked in the direction of the rattling she had heard. A grimy dirty skeleton was stalking around, its bow drawn. She followed is line of sight to a shifting grey and black figure with silver hair.

Lucy rolled her eyes and nimbly leapt over the small bush. With one sure strike, she cleaved the skeleton's head in half, just as it released its arrow at the figure. There was a yelp and Lucy quickly sheathed her sword, hopping over the skeleton into the bushes.

"Orion!" She shouted. The alchemist was leaning against a tree, his hand pressed over his chest where an arrow protruded. His fingers were stained with blood. "Orion you idiot…" She murmured gently. She carefully helped him to the ground and pried his hand from his chest.

"Lucy…it's not that bad…There's no need-" He stopped, inhaling sharply. Lucy was poking the wound. "Lucy…please stop that…" He said straining.

"Sorry. I'm trying to figure out how to take it out…"

"There is no way in hell you're taking that out right now! Not without water and some-" He groaned as he tried to stand. "Netherwart."

"You can barely stand! How do you expect to walk all the way back to the camp!?"

The alchemist placed his hand pack over the wound and grasped Lucy's shoulder with his other hand. "Oh I don't know… I haven't thought that far…" He began slowly hobbling south to the camp.

When they were back at the clearing, Herobrine was nowhere to be seen, but he had made a fire that cut through the now cold night. Lucy carefully set down the alchemist and pulled his rose from his pack, laying it out like a blanket and helping Orion onto it, using her jacket like a pillow. She then pried his fingers away from the wound.

The arrow hadn't gone very deep, about an inch and a half, and the bleeding was slowing down. But there would be no saving the alchemist's thin grey shirt. Roughly, Lucy ripped his shirt down the front as to get a better look at the wound. She sat back on her haunches and chewed her bottom lip thinking.

"Just pull it out!" Orion said though his clenched jaw. "You can't possibly do more damage…" She shifted.

"How? I've never pulled an arrow out of someone…" She stammered, trying not to look at his chest.

"Just…grip the shaft…your other hand at the base, against my chest…and pull." He said brokenly, his eyes closed. Lucy's hearted fluttered as she gingerly placed her hand on his chest. His skin was hot and she could feel the rise and fall of his labored breathing.

Taking a deep, steading breath, she took hold of the arrow's shaft, preparing herself to pull out the arrow. She looked down at Orion's fluttering blue eyes, looking through the pain for the trust. There was a slight glimmer in the dark midnight blue and she yanked with all her might, flying back as the arrow dislodged itself. Orion sucked in a breath and his brow relaxed.

"Oh thank Notch…" He breather, his head leaning slightly to the side as Lucy cleaned the wound with supplies from the first aid kit she found in Orion's pack. She also found a small bubble shaped bottle with red liquid and a stopped.

"What's this?" She asked, holding the bottle for Orion to see.

"That's my emergency healing potion." He replied simply.

"Well this is an emergency so drink up." She said forcefully, thrusting the bottle in his hand. The alchemist downed the potion in two gulps and sighed, closing his eyes again.

A few minutes later, when Lucy assumed he'd fallen asleep, Orion murmured.

"I almost forgot." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few squashed mushrooms and carrots. "I got stuff for dinner like you asked." The skylord accepted the vegetables and smiled graciously.

"You idiot…" She whispered. He grinned.

"I know…"


End file.
